Sweet Apple Summer
by The Denominator
Summary: Rarity has to spend her summer on Sweet Apple Acres with Applejack. Neither girl is happy about this arrangement. After all, they have absolutely nothing in common... or so they think. HUMAN AU. YURI.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic or any of the characters. **

**A/N: This is my first fanfiction in a long time, and my first real attempt in years to write a multi-chaptered story. Please feel free to critique any aspect of this. Feedback is good.  
**

In a year's time, Rarity knew she'd be out of this place and somewhere infinitely better. Right now, she was in her family's boutique sitting behind the cash register. The boutique was the only one of its kind in town, specialising in clothing for women. Her mother got shipments of clothes from the cities and sold them at the store. Not many people left town and even less went to the big cities. As Ponyville had a strong agrarian and small business culture, people rarely had cause to move on or out. Rarity's only access to outside world was being present as her mother opened the boxes with the new shipments. At one point, these boxes were someplace else, from somewhere far away. That thought comforted her.

She looked around the boutique. In one corner near the front of the store, were her own hand-stitched creations. Out of the five outfits she made, none were bought. She was sure nothing was wrong with them at all. It's just that nobody had the right sense or courage to pull them off. She would make her own dresses and wear them anyway at school. Sure she got looks (and smirks) but this was something in which she had to persist. If she wasn't confident about her own clothing, then who'd have confidence wearing them? At least this was the attitude she had. Nobody so much as asked her about her style for the day at school. Actually, not many people talked to her at school. At the boutique, one or two women have passed through and asked about her dresses. But nobody bought them.

That never stopped her. Rarity loved clothes. She loved fashion. The highlight of her month was picking up style magazines at the pharmacy or the grocery. Her family's only computer was in her father's study, and so keeping up with the latest releases online was a tedious task. She had to beg him for a minute to stop looking at golf clubs and football stats. So her found salvation in the magazines, cutting out what she thought was inspirational and collating them in a giant Lisa Frank unicorn-themed trapper keeper she's held onto since she was a girl. She knew though that outside, she'd be appreciated. On those rare afternoons that she finished her school work and her dad wasn't in his study, she'd go online and post her drawings and designs. The feedback was generally very good. It was encouraging. It all came from outside.

She watched as her mother, dressed gaudily as ever, warmly said goodbye to a customer. The store's door closed with the jangling of the little fake crystals hanging from it.

"Rarity," her mother said, walking towards her to pet her irate daughter with a plump bejeweled hand. "You need to stop making our clients feel bad about the things they want to wear!"

"Mother _why_ would you let someone with that body type think that she can pull off that outfit?" Rarity bemoaned, thinking about the kind of fashion crimes she's seen around town and wondering why it was she couldn't arrest people for them. Ponyville was no Via Dante. "It's wrong to let her buy that."

"But the customer is always right! Repeat it!" her mother said, smiling.

"The customer is always right…" she reluctantly drawled.

Pretty soon there'd be no more of this. She wanted to be respected. All the really famous designers told people what to wear, people didn't tell them what to create. Now it was just to bide time for her final year. She waited long enough and what was twelve more months? Saying that she suffered through most of her teenage years was no understatement.

"You do not know what it's like, mother, having nobody to talk to," Rarity mumbled, pressing her long, well-groomed French-tipped fingers on the counter-top.

"About these things," she hastily added, when she caught her mother's eyebrow raising in concern. "You know how girls here aren't entirely interested in Paris or Milan."

Her mother, always positive, spoke, "Well honey, people here just don't have the same hobbies as you. I'm sure you're going to find some gals in the city who'll go and drink those fancy iced coffees with you and you can go shopping."

Rarity had to try not to roll her eyes.

The city was where she'd be heading. New York to be exact once she could manage to get into Parsons or FIT's undergraduate fashion studies programmes. It was a pretty penny to go study in these places, especially since she'd have to fly across the country and rent somewhere to live, but her parents actually had money saved for such an occasion. Rarity herself was bent on getting her clothes sold at least through online retailers if she had to, once she established herself there. She had a plan, and once she finished her SATs and get accepted, then her life could truly begin.

"Well let's close up shop for the day. Your dad has something he wants to tell you."

Rarity's ears perked up. Did this have something to do with college maybe?

They locked the boutique and their travel wasn't very far. In fact, they just had to walk through the back door. Like most businesses in Ponyville, everyone lived right where they worked. While the boutique took up the bottom floor, the top floor was home. There was the boutique and the storage rooms behind it. In the back was a flight of stairs leading upwards to their home. Her family was by no means wealthy, but Rarity always strove to have class in every way she could.

She fell in love with Audrey Hepburn movies when she was younger. _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ and _My Fair Lady_ were two of her favourite films, the latter especially comforting proof that effort can turn a gutter-rat into a respectable lady. Although it wasn't lost on Rarity that the point of the story was foolishness of superficiality… it was still great to watch Hepburn's regality.

Rarity found her father in the living room watching TV with her much younger sister, Belle. Belle was like a miniature version of Rarity though with much softer features. But they both had fair skin and thick, wavy jet black hair and it was unmistakable that they were siblings. Belle even tried to emulate Rarity's speech patterns sometimes. Unlike the typical twang that some of the inhabitants of Ponyville had, Rarity resolved never to sound like a bumpkin. Belle idolised Rarity although it sometimes frustrated the older girl having a sister seven years younger than she was - they ultimately had nothing in common outside of appearance.

"Good, you and your mom are here," her father said, perking up. He turned off the TV and Belle made a small sound of disappointment. "Have a seat the both of you."

Rarity complied and watched her father intently. Family meetings were rare; the last one involved an impromptu vacation where Rarity was left baby-sitting Belle who brought her nightmare friends over to visit (and that often involved them playing in the boutique and messing up _everything_).

"After a lot of deliberation, we decided that you're going to get a reward for all the sacrifices you'll be making this summer," her dad began.

Rarity raised an eyebrow.

"We saved up a bit extra this year and we're going to send you on a vacation to New York with your mother for two weeks," he concluded triumphantly.

Rarity processed the information quickly and a giant grin spread across her face. She jumped out of her seat and leapt towards her dad embracing him in a giant hug.

"Oh my GOD, thank you so much! I don't - I can't -"

It was almost too much all at once. Having never stepped foot out of this lazy-life town to getting a vacation in one of the busiest places on earth? Not to mention the exact place she wanted to go to study next year? Sounded like heaven to her. Rarity already began mentally speed-developing an itinerary of all the places she'd visit, the universities to check out, stores she'd only read about that she'd have to check out, shows to go to (she was lately interested in Broadway costumes)… this reward couldn't have come at a better time for her.

"This is the best gift you have ever given me!" she cried happily. "So when are we leaving?"

"There's just one catch," her dad said, struggling with his daughter's grip around his neck.

Rarity loosened the chokehold hug.

"What's that?"

"If you want this trip, you're going to have to earn it. Remember, sacrifices? I mentioned that at the start."

Rarity stood up and clapped her hands together, "Of course! I'll work in the boutique all summer long, no problem. It's never been a problem, but if I need to do a little extra as well, I don't mind. Baby-sitting Belle will be not an issue at all."

"Er, no honey," her mother spoke.

Rarity looked at both her parents. If not the boutique, then…?

"Well you know Sweet Apple Acres," he dad continued.

Of course she did. Everybody in Ponyville did. It was the only apple farm in the entire town and it was run entirely by the Apple family. Well, what was left of the Apple family. Jack Apple and his wife had died in a car accident about three years ago. It was a big deal for the entire town since the Apples were well-liked by the entire community despite living so far off from the main town. Jack Apple in particular she remembered well with his rugged appearance and deep red hair. She remembered several times being in the car with her dad, and if he ever saw Jack on the road, the two men would pull over to jovially catch up and share stories.

Normally whenever the entire Apple family came into town it was always for deliveries, whether that be kids to school or crates of apples and homemade cider to all the grocers and markets. Sweet Apple Acres wasn't a giant farm which was why the business was centralised in Ponyville. The work had to have been hard since certain times of the year, the two older Apple children just wouldn't be found at school. They would be at the farm harvesting. It was like this for a town like Ponyville; children from farm families often had to miss school because of these duties at home.

Rarity knew the Apple children from their blonde hair (except the youngest, who sported flaming red hair) and freckled skin. The eldest she remembered was Mac, who senior girls often went crazy over what with his big brawny shoulders and rough good looks. He dropped out of school entirely when his parents had died. He had to have been in his early twenties by now. Rarity didn't know the name of the youngest, but she sometimes saw Belle running around town with her and another tomboyish girl. Then there was the middle child, A.J. (that's what she's heard other girls calling her in the hallways in school). This was probably the only Apple she saw the least. Rarity only recalled seeing her a few times when Mac dropped her off to school in their rust-red 1990 Chevy pick-up. Rarity had never spoken to her before despite knowing for sure that they must have been in school together for more than ten years. Ponyville only had one elementary, middle and high school. By the time everyone graduated, they knew just about everyone else.

"What about Sweet Apple Acres?" Rarity asked confusedly.

"Part of the deal to get your trip to New York is," and her dad fidgeted slightly, "to spend your summer working at the farm!"

The silence in the room was broken by Belle's outcry, "You get to go to Sweet Apple Acres!? No fair! I wanna go!"

Rarity managed to move from her nonplussed state to slowly ask, "And _why_ would I have to go to the apple farm?"

Her father took a deep breath and looked around the room at all his girls. His wife gave him a soft smile while his youngest daughter still sported a look of total envy. He answered, "Look, I got a call from Mac a couple weeks ago. You know Jack, was a good buddy of mine. Apparently he told his boy years ago that if he ever needed a favour, to turn to me, that I'd help. And he was right as rain. I'm going to try to help that boy. His sister - not your friend, Belle, the older one - well apparently she doesn't want to finish high school. She just wants to work on the farm. Now Mac, he never got to finish high school, but he said he can't let his sister do the same thing. She won't listen to him at all. He asked me what to do."

Rarity bit her lip.

Her mother took over and continued, "Your dad and I talked about it and we thought that the best thing for that girl is for her to be around someone who wants to finish school, someone who wants to do something with her education. And that's you, honey. We all know how much you want to go to college. You'd be a good influence on her, we think."

"So what does this have to do with me going to Sweet Apple Acres?" Rarity asked, trying to keep her voice levelled. This was _not_ what she was expecting.

"It's summer on a farm, Rarity," her father said shrugging. "There's a lot of things to do. That girl isn't going to be coming into town to be hanging out with the other girls. So… the good influence is going to have to go to her. We talked to Mac and his grandmother. They agreed to let you stay on the farm to work during the summer. That's why we're giving you this reward at the end. You'll get to go to New York on the condition that you spend most of your vacation at Sweet Apple Acres. You'll work, that's expected. So if you're wondering why we can't drive you out to the farm and bring you back home, that's an hour's drive out of town and from what I know, work starts really early and ends late. It'd probably wear you out having to make a two-hour journey every day. But you gotta at least try to talk to that girl and convince her that the smartest thing to do is at least finish high school. It would break Jack's heart to know two of his kids had to give up their education to work."

"What if I can't convince her!?" Rarity asked, almost angrily. Her temper was raising. She didn't ask to be part of some kind of rehabilitation programme for potential high-school dropouts.

"That's all right if you can't. You'll still get your trip. You just need to spend a couple months at the farm and if that doesn't change that girl's life decisions in any way, then we did the best we could do under the circumstances."

Rarity's patience was wearing thin. It was bad enough that she had to live in a town whose only ambition was to remain charmingly small, but to go to absolute boonies of said town was pushing it. If anything, this was regression. Her plan for the vacation involved doing tons of research about summer fashions this year, observe trends, make predictions for the upcoming year - basically to prepare for college next year. This was a summer meant to be about moving forward, not delving further back on the evolutionary scale on an apple farm miles away from a place she barely even wanted to consider "civilisation". She got angry.

"I do _not _understand how someone calling in a favour from _you_ somehow lands _me_ on a farm, father!" Rarity complained.

"Rarity!" her mother fussed.

"Mother, you can't think this is fair. I barely know this girl. I do not know this family. You are sending me off to complete strangers to do manual labour!"

"Rarity, I did not know you to be so selfish!" her father shouted angrily.

The room got still. Her father never raised his voice. But the look on his face was pained. Rarity suddenly felt ashamed of herself.

"These kids have nothing. At the end of the summer, you're going to be able to fly off and go on a holiday and do you know what they got? A full season of hard work and little gain. Recognise your privilege for once!"

She looked down on the floor, tears making her vision blurry. It was true. It is a selfish thing to not help someone going so far to ask a stranger for help. She knew better than that. She was raised much better than that. She took a deep breath and looked her father squarely in the eye.

"When do I leave?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I renamed some of the characters, slightly. Decisions were made according to their original names. Applebloom – A.B. – Abby. Something like that. Forgive me for it.**

The drive to Sweet Apple Acres would have been a silent one were it not for the cheerful jabbering of her family. It was an attempt to defrost Rarity who sat sullenly in the backseat of the station wagon, petting her white cat Opal behind the ears. Opal rested sleepily on her lap, allowing the attention. This wasn't entirely regular, but it seemed somehow that the cat knew she won't be seeing her owner for some time. It had been at least forty minutes since they were on this dirt road leading to the farm. There was nothing around to see for miles except grass and trees all around. There weren't even abandoned sheds or occupied houses anywhere.

The wagon's windows were up and the air conditioning had been blasting at full; Rarity didn't want to think about how hot it must be outside and the idea of sweat dripping down her back and dampening her light shirt made her frown. She wondered for a minute if there'd be air conditioning in the room she'd be staying in. It would have been a nice drive she thought, if it weren't exactly almost like a green mile.

"Hey, there it is!" her father exclaimed, snapping her away from her thoughts.

Sure enough, a red barn was starting to become clearer in the distance. Rarity could make out buildings and pens around the compound as they got closer. Big barn, a main house, a tractor out front and the rust-coloured pick-up parked outside… it certainly wasn't a sight she was very familiar with. As much as she was the product of a small town, Rarity spent so little time with the farm kids (or any kids, for that matter). Life was basically the boutique, her home, school and the same shops over and over again.

As they got closer, she could make out through the front windscreen a mess of red hair just slightly ahead of them, waving excitedly. It was the littlest Apple. Rarity could see a massive grin on her freckled face.

"Abby!" Belle shouted excitedly, shoving her way more to the middle of the backseat to get a better view in the front.

Abby ran off somewhere into the barn.

"There's Belle's little friend from school," their mother explained. "She's just the cutest isn't she, Rarity? She's probably run off to get her brother and sister."

The station wagon pulled up before the main house and on the porch, Rarity could see an old woman sitting on a rocker. Her father parked, and Rarity took a deep breath.

"Okay everyone, let's get out.

Belle wasted no time in tumbling out of the vehicle. Rarity shuffled Opal around, but the cat refused to get up. She turned down the glass all the way to let fresh air in and left the cat sleeping on the backseat. She steeled herself and then got out of the car.

The chill on her skin almost instantly vanished with the warm air around her and the hot sun beating down on her head.

_Should I get out one of my hats?_

"Good afternoon!" her father called to the old woman on the rocker. Belle was looking around anxiously to see if Abby would return from the barn. Their mother wore a big smile on her face. Rarity focused on breathing.

The old woman was clearly deep in sleep. She snorted and mumbled something, but didn't react. Rarity wasn't sure what to think of her.

"Can I go look for Abby, can I?" Belle asked impatiently, tugging on their mother's sleeve.

"No sweetie, just wait here and she'll turn up."

As though the question were a summons, Rarity heard some movement coming from the side of the house. A beautiful looking dog with a healthy brown coat came running ahead, its tongue hanging out of its mouth. Behind the dog was Abby jogging to keep up.

"Wait, Winona!" Abby shouted.

The dog listened and stopped running. She (Rarity guessed it was a she based on the name) stopped right in front of the group and looked up at them all as though inspecting everyone. Belle let out a happy squeal.

"Is this your dog?" she asked.

"Yup!" Abby answered, catching up and patting the dog fondly on its head.

Belle wasted no time letting go of her mother's arm and moving towards the dog. She kneeled down and began petting Winona happily. Rarity inwardly cringed when she saw her sister's white leggings get dirty.

"Winona's a friendly gal, ain't she?" came a voice.

Rarity looked up and saw its source. It was A.J. Apple. She must have been an half an inch taller than Rarity (Rarity's single gaze managed to deduct that this was her natural height considering the brown boots she wore didn't add much artificial height). She wore slightly faded blue jeans that were just a bit loose, and a button-up plaid shirt. The shirt was crinkled in a way that suggested that it was ironed neatly and tucked in but was pulled out at some point of the day. Atop her head was a worn cowboy's hat that Rarity immediately recognised. It was one her permanent image of Jack Apple. Under the hat was straight blonde hair tied in a loose ponytail. Despite seeming just a bit disheveled, Rarity could gauge that there was not a single lazy or loose thing about this girl otherwise. She stood straight with total confidence and every step she took was sure-footed and purposeful.

She approached the group and gave a smile and a slight tip of the hat.

"G'day. I'm Applejack. Some people call me A.J. but I prefer it if you call me by my full name. A.J. makes me sound like I should be in a boy band," the blonde girl said, grinning.

A hand extended right to Rarity.

She looked her in the eye. Applejack had the same tell-tale Apple freckles adorning the rest of her siblings. Her skin, Rarity noticed, was clearly not moisturized on a daily basis (and Rarity wondered, if ever) but it had a healthy glow that only could be gotten from sunlight. The most interesting thing about Applejack were her eyes. They were green like jewels, and Rarity's mind began racing to think of the exact one. Her mouth was pink but lipstick and gloss-less. Inside housed straight, off-white teeth. Rarity instinctively felt her own teeth ache remembering several years of braces to get her own crooked mess sorted out. Everything about this girl was natural, from her make-up-less skin to the dirty fingernails on the extended hand.

Rarity didn't know what this girl might have been touching. She could've been handling pigs before – _Did she wash her hands? Clearly not _– but the sake of not being rude, she took the hand and shook it.

Her own hand was still cold from the air conditioning in the car, but she immediately felt warmth from the other hand. The contact was not unpleasant but Rarity couldn't like it either. Despite having some good features on her face, Applejack's hands were the ugliest thing on the girl's body. Stubbed down fingernails with some kind of black grease round the tips, dry and rough skin with several faded and fresh scars all over them. The handshake itself was firm, and Rarity saw Applejack open her mouth and close it again. She let go and turned to the others and offered her hand to shake theirs, breaking eye contact in the motion.

Rarity glanced down at her hand. Grease stains.

* * *

Rarity, her family and the Apples all sat around a small rectangular table laden with food. On it were mashed potatoes, a bowl of sweet corn, baby carrots, green beans, and fried chicken on a big platter in the centre. On one side sat the three Apple siblings, at the head sat "Granny Smith" (who they managed to wake up to bring to the table for lunch), at the other sat Rarity's father, and his three girls took up the other length. Rarity sat between her sister and mother, close enough that elbows were bumping and leg were brushing against one another accidentally. There was barely a place to breathe, but the atmosphere was incredibly lively. Rarity however couldn't really bring herself to eat. She ladled some beans, carrots and corn onto her plate and picked at it.

"Ain't you gonna eat any meat girly?" came the croaky voice of Granny Smith, whose wrinkled eyes still looked asleep. "There's plenty-a chicken."

"I'm vegetarian," Rarity said.

"Wassat?"

"Means she's not going to eat it, Granny," Abby explained.

Rarity opened her mouth, but was cut off by Granny Smith wondering how in tarnations anyone could not like fried chicken.

"Yeah, Rarity hasn't eaten any meat since she was about twelve years old, I think," her dad said, taking a bite from a chicken leg himself. "By the way, this is absolutely delicious."

"Why thank you," Granny Smith said. "These girls I got here can't boil water without burning it.

"Granny!" both Apple girls cried out, and a laugh went around the table.

Rarity could tell from the things in the kitchen that the Apples were extremely home-y people. They didn't have a dining room, and so meals were had right where they were cooked. The kitchen housed an old-timey gas stove but it was kept in such fantastic condition that Rarity was sure they could afford two electrical ones with the price a collector would pay for it. The fridge was also old-fashioned and sky blue in colour. The walls everywhere in the entire house (at least what Rarity had seen so far) were filled with picture frames depicting tons of freckled-faced or blonde relatives. Some were in black and white and others in colour and some were even sepia-tinted, but the walls had the entire Apple clan on it smiling at her or with one another. Rarity figured these relatives were from out of town since the only Apples living in Ponyville were the ones around the table right now.

Rarity didn't know where to find her appetite and she couldn't manage with the conversation, so she decided to examine the Apple clan. This was the first time really that she was ever around them. Mac was so brawny and big that he pretty much took up half of his side of the table. He wore the same kind of plaid button-up that Applejack had, except his was in a different colour. Rarity thought he could pull off cowboy-chic very easily and wondered if at any point that the Apples would go clothes-shopping and let her give them tips. Hopefully this could happen. All the plaid made them look like Canadian lumberjacks or hipsters. But Mac's handsomeness was clear. Peach-like facial hair lightly adorned his square jaw. His eyes were lightly green unlike his sister's forest-coloured ones. Rarity realized he didn't say too much and steadily ate. Abby seemed too busy giggling with Belle from across the table to pay attention to her own food. As for Applejack, she ate, conversed, smiled, and fed Winona (who was sitting right behind her, waiting for any treats off of the table).

Rarity looked down at her plate. Perhaps it wouldn't be too bad.


	3. Chapter 3

She kept stealing glances at her.

Around the corner of the house where she saw the back-end of a white station-wagon, inside the hallway as Granny Smith hobbled through the tour of the house, at the table when everyone had been seated and were ladling food onto their plates, in between chews of chicken. She just couldn't help looking.

This wasn't her first time ever seeing Rarity, but it was her first time ever being so close. She wasn't sure how to take it all in.

Applejack was never one to protest about anything, but the night she found out her schoolmate was coming to spend some weeks at their home was one of the few times in her life that she had. The boutique-owner's daughter spending two months at Sweet Apple Acres to learn about farm life? The idea alone was the stuff of a bad Disney movie.

It wasn't an issue of hospitality. If someone were homeless and needed a place to stay, Applejack would gladly make a bed for them and give them a hot plate to fill their belly. But this was _Rarity_. This was the girl who wore heels to school when most people kicked it in Payless-sneakers or boots. This was the girl who never, as far as she could remember, wore the same thing twice. This was the girl who looked like she never worked hard a day in her life. How would she manage on a farm? The worst part was that her entire education was to be handled by Applejack since Mac said he didn't have the time and Abby was far too young to be telling a seventeen-year-old what to do. Plus Granny Smith was… Granny Smith. So that just left her. And that left her angry, since there was a lot to do and get ready for come fall when the apples would be ripe for picking and then there was cider-making and there'd be the sales to deal with and bills to pay… it was a lot and Applejack knew she had to get these things done. But it wasn't the work that was getting her angry - it was the lack of work. Because Mac instructed her to spend all her time with Rarity. This meant showing her the ropes for _everything_. Rarity was going to hold her back.

And if there was one person in all of Ponyville who'd be at her table eating lunch, this girl was the absolute last person she'd have bet a silver dollar on. Applejack noticed the talk about Rarity's diet and knew already that she'd have her work cut out for her. This was a bacon and eggs breakfast kind of family. And breakfast was terribly important when you needed to be up at four in the morning. She looked on as Rarity picked at a baby carrot on the plate.

Applejack never really cared to give attention to other girls, but Rarity caught her eye since forever. Strange, always by herself in her notebook, drawing something or sticking things inside of it. Dressed quite impractically for school and as she watched the outfit now, for work too. She always looked beautiful, though. And that bit intimidated Applejack deep somewhere she couldn't quite place. This girl was almost regal in the way she carried herself. She wasn't like the beer-guzzling, nose-picking, hair-dye-abusing _others_. She was in a class of her own. Watching her parents, you'd never assume they were related. Anyone would think her parents were counts or dukes or something, Applejack thought. She certainly didn't have any tell-tale signs that she was from Ponyville.

Today she wore some kind of white shirt with little black dots and shiny black buttons and it had a frill or bow in the front – Applejack wasn't entirely sure what words to use to describe it. Her jeans were black and conformed to her shape. She was wearing some kind of slipper with a frill on top that matched the bow on the shirt. Applejack's jaw set. She didn't know what to say other than maybe "Damn" (because it looked damned good on Rarity). Her dark hair was loose and full. She wore blue eye-shadow that brought out her eyes. She wasn't wearing lipstick but there was something pink and glossy on her lips, Applejack noticed. For some reason, this slightly annoyed her. What exactly did this girl come here to do? Be in a fashion show? The pigs certainly won't care about her eye make-up.

But that wasn't the thing that annoyed her most about this girl. It was her hand.

Long thin fingers, dainty. Not a blemish in sight. Soft, sweet-swelling lotion on them. When Applejack shook Rarity's hand, she could almost feel her own contaminating the skin. Suddenly every grain of dirt was apparent and she hated that feeling. It was also cool to the touch, and that did not feel altogether pleasant. Given her silence, that's pretty much what Applejack dreaded the entire hot summer would be: cold. Afterwards, when washing up before lunch, she noticed how much grease she had on her hands from tinkering with the apple crusher in the barn. Applejack didn't have a care in the world about things like that. It just didn't make sense to. But now Rarity with her doll-like smooth skin made her feel just grubby in comparison.

Something like an alarm set off in her head. She was sure she didn't like it.


End file.
